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mention that it has tentaclelike things all around its head, each of
which is longer than I am tall and as big around as my thigh. I could
let you know that, at the shoulders, it was around eighteen feet high
and much, much longer than that. But, until you ve seen one up close,
you just can t really imagine it.
Loiosh dived under my cloak. I d have liked to have followed.
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Morrolan stood stiffly at my side, waiting. His hand wasn t resting on
his sword hilt, so I kept my hands away from my rapier.
Anyway, just what good is a rapier going to do against a dragon?
WELL MET, STRANGERS.
What can I say? It wasn t loud as a voice is loud, but, ye gods, I felt
the insides of my skull pounding. Earlier, when the athyra had spoken
to us, I had the impression that it was carrying on simultaneous but
different conversations with Morrolan and me. This time, it seemed,
we were both in on it. If I ever actually come to understand psychic
communication I ll probably go nuts.
Morrolan said, Well met, dragon.
One of its eyes was fixed on me, the other, I assume, on Morrolan.
It said, YOU ARE ALIVE.
I said, How can you tell?
Morrolan said, We are on an errand.
FOR WHOM?
The lady Aliera, of the House of the Dragon.
OF WHAT IMPORTANCE IS THIS TO ME?
I don t know. Does the House of the Dragon matter to you, Lord
Dragon?
I heard what may have been a chuckle. It said, YES.
Morrolan said, Aliera e Kieron is the Dragon heir to the throne.
That was news to me. I stared at Morrolan while I wondered at the
ramifications of this.
The dragon turned its head so both its eyes were on Morrolan. After a
moment it said, WHERE STANDS THE CYCLE?
Morrolan said, It is the reign of the Phoenix.
The dragon said, YOU MAY BOTH PASS.
It turned around (not a minor undertaking) and walked back out of
sight. I relaxed. Loiosh emerged from my cloak and took his place on
my right shoulder.
Our guide continued to lead us onward, and soon we were back in a
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more normal (ha!) landscape. I wondered how much time had
actually passed for us since we d arrived. Our clothing had pretty
much dried before the rain and we d had a meal. Four hours? Six?
There was a building ahead of us, and there seemed to be more people
around, some in the colors of the House of the Dragon, others in
purple robes.
Morrolan, do you know the significance of those dressed in purple?
They are the servants of the dead.
Oh. Bitch of a job.
It is what happens to those who arrive in the Paths of the Dead but
don t make it through, or who die here.
I shuddered, thinking of the Dragonlords we d killed. Is it
permanent?
I don t think so. It may last for a few thousand years, though.
I shuddered again. It must get old, fast.
I imagine. It is also used as punishment. It is likely what will happen
to us if our mission fails.
The building was still quite some distance in front of us, but I could
see that it would have compared well to the Imperial Palace. It was a
simple, massive cube, all grey, with no markings or decorations I
could distinguish. It was ugly.
Our guide gestured toward it and said, The Halls of Judgment.
Chapter 13
I held the world in my hands. There was a moment of incredible
clarity, when the horizon stopped wavering, and I was deaf to
rhythms and pulses. Everything held its breath, and my thought
pierced the fabric of reality. I felt Loiosh s mind together with mine
as a perfectly tuned lant, and I realized that, except for my
grandfather, he was the only being in the world that I loved.
Why was I doing this?
The scent of pine needles penetrated my thoughts, and everything
seemed clean and fresh. It brought tears to my eyes and power to my
hands.
As we approached the building, it didn t get any smaller. I think the
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area around me continued to change, but I wasn t noticing. We came
to an arch with another stylized dragon s head, and our guide stopped
there. He bowed to Morrolan, studiously ignoring me.
I said, It s been a pleasure. Have a wonderful time here.
His eyes flicked over me and he said, May you be granted a purple
robe.
Why, thanks, I said. You, too.
We passed beneath the arch. We were in a sort of courtyard in front of
doors I suspect our friend the dragon could have gone through
without ducking. I saw other arches leading into it, about twenty of
them.
Oh. No, of course. Make that exactly seventeen of them. There were
several purple robes standing around in the courtyard, one of whom
was approaching us. He made no comment, only bowed to us both,
turned, and led us toward the doors.
It was a long way across the courtyard. I had a chance to think about
all sorts of possibilities I didn t enjoy contemplating. When we were
before the doors they slowly and majestically swung open for us, with
an assumed grandeur that seemed to work on me even though I was
aware of it.
Stole one of your tricks, I told Morrolan.
It is effective, is it not?
Yeah.
Back when the doors of Castle Black had opened, Lady Teldra had
stood there to greet me. When the doors of the Halls of Judgment
opened before us, there was a tall male Dragaeran in the dress of the
House of the Lyorn brown ankle-length skirt, doublet, and sandals
with a sword slung over his back.
He saw me and his eyes narrowed. Then he looked at the pair of us
and they widened. You are living men.
I said, How could you tell?
Good Lyorn, said Morrolan, we wish to present ourselves to the
Lords of Judgment.
He sort of smiled. Yes, I suppose you do. Very well, follow me. I will
present you at once.
I can hardly wait, I muttered. No one responded.
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I spent the two weeks following Kynn s death in Candletown,
discovering just how much fun you can have while you re worried
sick; or, if you wish, just how miserable you can be while you re living
it up.
Then, one day while I was sitting on the beach quietly getting drunk, a
waiter came up to me and said, Lord Mawdyear? I nodded, as that
was close enough to the name I was using. He handed me a sealed
message for which I tipped him lavishly. It read Come back, and my
boss had signed it. I spent a few minutes wondering if it was faked,
until Loiosh pointed out that anyone who knew enough to fake it
knew enough to send someone to kill me right there on the beach.
This sent a chill through me, but it also convinced me the message was
genuine.
I teleported back the next morning, and nothing was said about what I
thought must have been a miserable blunder. I found out, over the
course of the next few months, that it hadn t really been that bad a
mistake. It was pretty much the policy to send the assassin out of town
after he shined someone, especially during a war. I also found out
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